The Hyte Maneuver by David Wind

Author:David Wind
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Thriller & Suspense, Terrorist thriller, Serial Killer, Mystery, Hostage, literature & Fiction, Police Procedural, International Mystery & Crime, ACtion & Adventure
Publisher: ColSaw Publications
Published: 2017-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-five

The April night in New City, New York, was cool; the midnight sky was clear. The scent of early blossoming trees added a light and sweet fragrance.

Michael Barnes pulled his Volvo into the driveway of his Tudor-style home, and put the automatic gearshift into park. “What happened to the light?” he asked his wife.

“It must have blown,” she said.

“Or the timer’s gone out again. Send Elyse out.”

“I don’t mind driving her home,” Francine Barnes said.

He winked. “While I’m taking her home, you can put on something sexy.”

She unfastened her seatbelt and leaned toward him, sliding her hand along the inside of his thigh. “Don’t take too long.”

He covered her hand. “We can always put the seats down.”

“Not in this neighborhood we can’t,” she admonished, pulling her hand free and opening the door. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

Three minutes later, fourteen-year-old Elyse Lomen hopped into the car, and Michael Barnes backed out of the drive.

Samael, God’s Messenger, watching the scene between husband and wife, smiled. Yes, the driveway floodlight was out, but it had not blown out. A divine bolt had shattered it an hour before.

Samael peered at the bedroom window on the second floor, watching the elongated shadow of Francine Barnes undress. The bathroom light came on. Samael waited patiently. It was important for the woman to return to the bedroom.

Eventually, the bathroom light went off. In the bedroom, the elongated shadow bent over a table.

“Very good,” Samael whispered.

Samael had spent a long time watching this house and its occupants. Samael knew exactly what would happen. In five minutes, Michael Barnes would return.

Moving with stealth, God’s Messenger of Death maneuvered to the vantage point that had been marked out weeks before.

At the prepared spot, Samael lifted the crossbow from the bag and drew the bowstring back, using a special foot attachment.

A wash of headlights turned the corner.

Samael stepped back into the bushes, blending with the darkness.

The car turned into the driveway. Michael Barnes’s arm reached out. In his hand was the remote control for the garage door.

When the car was abreast of Samael, God’s Messenger stepped from the bushes and released the safety. “Michael Barnes,” Samael called.

Barnes stopped to stare at the old man appearing out of nowhere. “Who—”

“It is your time,” Samael said, bringing up the crossbow. “You have postponed your death for long enough.”

Barnes’s eyes widened. He thought of the detective who had come to see him. “Wait,” he pleaded.

Samael smiled.

The bolt struck Barnes in the temple. The sound it made was louder than the crossbow’s release. Barnes’s head jerked back. His thumb ground down on the remote. The door began to open, a low humming in the quiet suburban night.

Samael opened the car door and maneuvered Barnes into the passenger seat. Then God’s Messenger of Death put the Volvo into reverse and backed out of the driveway.

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